Adrian's fist froze mid-swing. Scars split across his knuckles, thin lines burning between each finger. A calm, commanding voice broke the silence.
"Not so fast… Adrian."
Adrian's crimson eyes widened. Then, to the astonishment of all watching, the vampire bowed low, his arrogance gone in an instant. "General… forgive my rudeness."
The newcomer smiled faintly before turning his gaze upon Saria.
"Ah, so you are Saria… warrior of that coward."
Saria attempted to rise, flames sparking across her battered body. But the figure stepped forward, pressing a boot down on her stomach. With a sudden, crushing force, he stomped her into the ground. The earth shuddered beneath them, the tremor rippling outward until the entire country shook.
Far away, in a village nestled at the edge of the plains, an old man steadied himself with his cane as walls quivered around him.
"Are the gods angry? Did they demand a sacrifice this year?" he muttered, looking up at the rattling heavens.
"Papa… I'm scared," whispered a small girl, clutching his side.
The old man pulled her close, patting her head with trembling hands. "Do not fear, sweet one. It will be all right."
Back on the battlefield, Saria's teeth clenched. With a roar, her flames surged once more.
"Implosion!"
Her body erupted in fire. In the instant of explosion, she teleported away, reappearing several rooftops further, collapsing in a haze of smoke and ash.
The General only shook his head, eyes narrowing. "This city is filled with cowards." His form blurred and vanished. In the next heartbeat, he reappeared within the city's heart, his voice thundering like a war-drum.
"AKATSUKI! Show yourself, or I'll take your head where you hide!"
Saria, half-broken, landed in a nearby street. She barely managed to push herself upright before the General's shadow fell across her again. His hand reached for her neck…
—but a knife sang through the air, burying itself into his palm.
"Don't you dare lay a hand on my captain, Hiyendel Greenfield," came a sharp voice.
Akatsuki emerged from rubble, his stance relaxed yet precise, his hand raised. The knife vanished from Greenfield's hand and reappeared in his own.
"You never change," Akatsuki said evenly. "Still wearing the same clothes. Still clinging to old habits."
Greenfield's jaw tightened. Blood trickled from his fist, yet his grip only grew stronger as he conjured a massive, jagged blade with no hilt. He hefted it effortlessly, its weight cracking the ground.
"And you," Greenfield spat, "are still a coward. Always hiding in the shadows."
Akatsuki's eyes narrowed. His breath caught. "…That's the Broken Sword of Heroes."
Greenfield smirked. "It wasn't easy to take from the Radiant Dawn. A fine artifact. Its swing feels heroic… but its power is anything but." He thrust the blade into the ground, fissures spreading like lightning. "The first artifact ever discovered. Unlike the others, it calls not to this world of magic… but beyond it."
Akatsuki's hand twitched toward his knives. "That artifact draws people. Even those not born of this realm. Dangerous."
"I'll give you the honor of being cut down by it, Akatsuki." Greenfield's grin sharpened. He charged, blade raised.
But a whip lashed across the battlefield, wrapping tight around him. Persephone staggered forward, body bloodied, yet holding firm.
"Well, well," Greenfield mused, straining against the coils. "A whip user. Rare indeed… Persephone."
Her arms trembled as she gritted her teeth. "I won't let you—"
"Let me go," Greenfield interrupted coldly. "And perhaps I'll honor the promise we once made."
Her face contorted with frustration. At last, she released him, staggering back with clenched fists.
A golden light spilled from the heavens. Both men turned their eyes skyward.
"Ugh… really? A Time Master?" Greenfield muttered.
Akatsuki smiled faintly. "A new friend of mine."
A vast clock of magic unfolded in the sky, gears turning in luminous arcs. From it descended Doviam, cloaked in the light of ticking hours. With a gesture, time itself bent, freezing Greenfield mid-step.
"General," Doviam said, voice cold. "You move too dangerously. This world doesn't need another destroyer."
A golden orb gathered in his palm.
But the moment stretched and then shattered. A dark figure materialized beside him, dissolving the time stop as if it were smoke.
"Myogafu," Doviam whispered.
The creature inclined its head, voice rasping with jagged cadence. "This world… already has… enough destroyers. Don't you agree… Saria?"
Saria's flames flared at the name. She rose shakily, sword trembling in her grip. "You again. After my artifact?"
Myogafu laughed, the sound like bones grinding. Black mist erupted across the city. Spikes tore upward from the ground, plunging the streets into a nightmare.
"Everyone… is the enemy… of someone," Myogafu whispered. "Hero… villain… it makes no difference." His eyes glowed as they turned to Saria. "Nota sees you as its chosen. Well done, Saria."
Her eyes widened in shock. "He wouldn't! Nota doesn't wield a blade that size…"
"Artifacts… shift form," Myogafu said simply. "For the right bearer. That's why Persephone still wields the Ring of Synaisthima."
Persephone glanced down at her hand. The ring pulsed with a crimson glow.
"You lack knowledge of artifacts, Saria. I didn't expect such ignorance from you," Akatsuki muttered, stepping closer, knives ready, shielding her despite his words.
A voice broke in, smooth and mocking. "Pardon me, monster, but could you release my snack?"
Adrian dropped from the sky, landing heavily before Myogafu. Flames coiled around him, his grin wide.
"Ah… Adrian," Myogafu rasped. "The master vampire of healing."
Adrian waved casually, then turned to Greenfield. "So, big boss—what's my job?"
Greenfield sighed. "Kill that creature. He's… borderline evil."
Myogafu pointed at himself. Then at Greenfield. "Hypocrite."
Adrian only cracked his knuckles, excitement burning in his eyes. He vanished, reappearing behind Myogafu, and drove his fist through the creature's stomach.
"…Ow," Myogafu muttered. "That tickled."
Adrian glanced at his hand. A hole had been punched through the monster's torso, yet the creature walked on unfazed.
"Did that really not hurt?"
Persephone, horrified, lashed her whip around Myogafu's neck, yanking with every ounce of strength left in her.
"Gang up on me…? How surprising," Myogafu whispered. He trudged forward regardless, dragging Persephone along as the ground shattered beneath each step.
"Shit! He's too strong!" she screamed, panic breaking through her resolve. Then she felt it—a pulse running down her whip, a power not her own.
"Oh… farewell, Saria," Myogafu murmured, almost gently.
Confusion flickered across Saria's face. In the next instant, Persephone was flung like a stone, her body catapulted across the city and crashing into the ruins of a church.
"Heaven… is the place… for you," Myogafu whispered. His gaze slid back to Saria. He raised one clawed finger and pointed behind her.
"Be… aware… Saria."
She froze. The sound reached her ears—soft, wet, deliberate.
Drip… drip… drip.
Blood was falling.